I instantly ceased to set any value upon the pony, but for that reason, perhaps, I turned it to some account; I mounted it and rode it about, which I don't think I should have done had I looked upon it as a secure possession.

Had I looked upon my title as secure, I should have prized it so much, that I should scarcely have mounted it for fear of injuring the animal; but now, caring not a straw for it, I rode it most unmercifully, and soon became a capital rider.
This was very selfish in me, and I tell the fact with shame.

I was punished, however, as I deserved; the pony had a spirit of its own, and, moreover, it had belonged to gypsies; once, as I was riding it furiously over the lawn, applying both whip and spur, it suddenly lifted up its heels, and flung me at least five yards over its head.

I received some desperate contusions, and was taken up for dead; it was many months before I perfectly recovered.
"But it is time for me to come to the touching part of my story.

There was one thing that I loved better than the choicest gift which could be bestowed upon me, better than life itself--my mother;--at length she became unwell, and the thought that I might possibly lose her now rushed into my mind for the first time; it was terrible, and caused me unspeakable misery, I may say horror.